


Endgame

by 1nner_sakura



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Eventual reveal, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, IDENTITY SHENANIGANS, Identity Reveal, Light Angst, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Secret Identity, because reasons, oh god why have i started a multi-chapter fic this is too much pressure rip me, rated T for my potty mouth and marinette’s oUT OF CONTROL HORMONES, trapped in a closet trope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2018-09-15 07:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9225521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/1nner_sakura/pseuds/1nner_sakura
Summary: What do you get when you combine an ill-timed akuma attack, Paris’ most adorably awkward teen heroes, and an accidental confession? One very exciting gym class, apparently.And maybe—with just a little bit of fumbling and the right amount of luck—a happy ending too.





	1. Two Heroes, One Closet

**Author's Note:**

> this is un-betaed so i apologize for any mistakes or weirdly worded passages. i tried.

 

When she threw open the door, she wished for the thousandth time that the responsibility of protecting the citizens of Paris had fallen onto the shoulders of someone else. Someone better, stronger, braver; someone more equipped and capable of dealing with the reality of being Ladybug. Marinette couldn’t even deal with the reality of being a functional teenager, let alone moonlighting as a spandex-clad superheroine responsible for the lives of approximately 2 million people.

Better yet, she wished that Hawkmoth had never reared his stupid, ugly head and threatened all of Paris and sent her life careering into chaos. Then she wouldn’t have to live in constant fear for herself, her friends, and her family. Then she would be able to live the life of a normal 15-year-old girl with a host of normal 15-year-old problems, like having too much homework, and doing chores, and one-sided crushes, and staying up too late playing video games. A list which did not include worrying about things like her gym teacher being turned into a giant, raging monster by evil purple butterflies.

And most importantly of all, she wouldn’t be hiding in a storage closet with her classmate who also happened to be an extremely attractive model (and the secret love of her life) by the name of—

“ADRIEN AGRESTE,” the akuma screeched, voice reverberating off the gymnasium walls. “COME OUT, COME OUT WHEREVER YOU ARE. LET’S SEE IF YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES TO BEAT ME FAIR AND SQUARE!”

Marinette sighed.

_As if gym class wasn’t already bad enough._

“Well I hardly think a one-on-one with a deranged supervillian is fair, but hey. What do I know?”

Marinette barely managed to resist the urge to jump when she heard Adrien’s whispered retort in her ear. He was so close she could see the hair at her temple moving as his breath puffed in and out, his body heat seeping into her back. She shivered, the tiny hairs on her arms and the back of her neck standing on end as adrenaline began to course through her veins for a reason entirely unrelated to the akuma lurking nearby.  
  
She snuck a glance at him over her shoulder, watching the way his green eyes sparkled in the darkness. She would almost go as far as to say he was amused by the entire situation, were it not for his slightly pinched mouth and the worried furrow developing between his brows.

A shadow passing in front of the closed door caused Marinette to rear back instinctively, her body going on auto-pilot.

 _Akuma_.

She spun, slamming her hand over Adrien’s mouth and pressing him bodily up against the wall, futilely trying to shield him from the threat with her body.

The shadow paused.

Marinette held her breath.

A trickle of cold sweat began to work its way down the back of her neck, disappearing between her shoulder blades. She could feel her eyes burning as she stared intently at the crack at the bottom of the door, unwilling to so much as blink for fear of being discovered.

After what felt like an eternity, the shadow continued onward, the akuma’s booming voice slowly fading into the distance.

Letting out a shaky breath, Marinette felt herself slump with relief as silence enveloped the room. The immediate threat was gone. Now she just had to figure out a way to get out of this musty old closet and transform so that she could deal with one very pissed off gym teacher. Piece of cake. Although she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was a rather important detail she was forgetting…

“Mmhmp?”

“OHMYGOD.” Ripping her hand from Adrien’s mouth as though scalded, Marinette flailed backwards, just about throwing herself across the room in her haste to get distance from the blonde boy (who was currently gazing at her as though he’d never seen her before). She could still feel the warm press of his lips against her palm and the thought caused heat to explode in her face. 

“Sorry! I am so sorry about that, I don’t know what came over me. It felt like my body just moved on it’s own and – agh – that was probably so uncomfortable for you, I—!”

To her surprise, instead of reacting with disgust or disapproval (as she fully expected he would), Adrien burst out laughing. Marinette gazed with wide-eyed wonder, taken aback by the outburst from her normally reserved classmate. She strained her eyes against the dimness, greedily cataloguing the way laughter changed his face. How his eyes crinkled with mirth at the corners, and how his teeth flashed brightly in his grinning face. Adrien Agreste might have been good-looking under regular circumstances – carefully coiffed and effortlessly attractive in his expensive designer clothes – but it was inarguably laughter that looked best on him.

_How was it possible for anyone to be this beautiful?_

Finally registering her gawping, Adrien fought to compose himself, raising a hand to cover his mouth self-consciously.

“Ah,” he cleared his throat. “Sorry. I’m not laughing at you, I swear. Just, um, relieving stress…?” His sentence trailed off, hanging in the air between them uncertainly. Marinette forced herself to relax, internally lamenting having ruined the moment by making him uncomfortable.

_Now look what you’ve done – you’ve scared the poor thing!_

“No, it’s totally okay!” She rushed to assure him, reaching out somewhat desperately as though she could prevent him from retreating back into his shell. His joy was like a drug, and now that she’d had a taste of it she couldn’t help but crave more. She wanted to be the one to put that grin on his face, wanted to hear him laugh like that again and again and again.

Her hand found purchase on his arm and Marinette was grateful for the cover provided by the dark room, if only for the fact that it prevented Adrien from seeing the force of the blush lighting up her face. “I understand. This whole situation is... kind of bizarre.”

She felt him shift, whether it was away from or closer to her she was too afraid to find out, and lowered her hand.

“Yeah, it kind of is.” 

Reluctantly moving away from where he was standing, she began trying to gather her bearings. Now that her eyes had somewhat adjusted to the darkness, she could see that the room they were in was absolutely packed with old sporting equipment – carts and shelves full of flat footballs and basketballs, broken rackets, and dusty mats were crammed in almost from floor to ceiling. Marinette was glad that she’d never struggled with claustrophobia because between her, the equipment and Adrien, there was barely three feet of manoeuvrable space.

She bumped into a precarious pile of mats, disturbing a cloud of dust and unleashing a ferocious and unforgiving sneezing fit upon herself.

Discreetly wiping away any snot, she prayed that Adrien had missed her stunning display of attractiveness. Yet from the way his shoulders were shaking with (what she assumed to be) barely suppressed laughter, she divined that her prayers had been in vain. 

_If I have any feminine wiles at all, now would be a **really**  good time for them to kick in._

“You okay?” He called, his voice thick with amusement.

“Fine, fine! Just allergies.” She began moving with more caution this time, unwilling to upset the carefully balanced mounds of trash and call down more of that infernal dust. Or worse, _spiders_. “How are you doing?”

“I’m managing. Luckily, dust doesn’t fall on my strange and unfortunately long list of allergies.”

“Oh? I thought you were only allergic to feathers.”

“If only that were the case.” He sighed wistfully. She turned to see him perched with cat-like grace on top of an old gymnastics vault, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Do you want the long or the short list?”

“Well, I don’t know,” she deadpanned. “Seeing as how we’re stuck in this closet for the foreseeable future, let’s go with long.”

“Hmm let’s see,” he began, ticking them off on his fingers. “Well there’s feathers, as you know, avocados, beestings - I have to carry an EpiPen for that one actually - and kiwi. Plus several different kinds of medication – half of which I can’t pronounce – horses, natural rubber latex, black grapes—”

“Specifically black grapes?”

“—I told you it was weird. Now where was I…Oh! There's also chestnuts, cheap metals like nickel, sulphites, and green peppers!” He concluded with a flourish, gazing at her expectantly as if waiting for applause.

“...How did you even live past infancy?”

“Tsk, tsk! So quick to judge, Pri—” Marinette raised an eyebrow, slightly bewildered as he stumbled over his words. He recovered quickly, not giving her the chance to interject.“— _Precisely_ the problem with the youth of today, if you ask me! You know, books, judgement, covers, etc.”

“I may seem like a delicate flower, but I’m made of stronger stuff than I appear.” He winked, jumping off the vault and bowing theatrically. Seeing her unimpressed look, he grinned sheepishly. “I may have also had the help of an entire professional kitchen staff. And my allergist on speed dial.”

Pressing a hand to her face to hide the stupid grin she could feel building there, Marinette giggled. Even if he was a delicate flower, he was so darn cute that she couldn’t help but want to gather his face between her hands and pepper it with kisses. Then she would slipped a hand into the impossibly silky hair at the nape of his neck as he laughed softly, drawing her closer before dragging her lips down to m—

 _ **Down** , girl_.

Marinette spun away, slapping her cheeks a couple times in an attempt to gather her focus, and prevent her mind from wandering any further down such dangerous (and tantalizing and slightly lewd and _totally_ _off-limits_ ) paths. She needed to be concentrating on the important things, like evaluating the security of their current location, and deciding whether it would be better to stay there or risk moving Adrien to a safer, more defensible location.  

Not what it would feel like to have her hands fisted in his hair while she shoved her tongue in his mouth.

“JESUS CHRIST!”

“Marinette?! What happened, are you alright?”

“AH, yeah! Totally fine. Just – uh – thought I saw a spider. Carry on!”

“Okay, if you're sure…”

 _  
DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN FOR THE SAKE OF THIS BOY’S VIRTUE RELEASE ME FROM THIS DEN OF TEMPTATION_.

 

* * *

 

 

Although the situation was certainly less than ideal – with her and Adrien’s continuing banter falling somewhere between ‘endearingly awkward’ and ‘utterly mortifying’ – Marinette acknowledged that as far as hiding spots went, the two of them could have done a lot worse. The closet may have been dirty, and dark, and cramped, but at least it was warm, and there were lots of convenient hiding places. If worst came to worst, she knew she could at least stash Adrien away behind some of the junk and go run off to ’find’ Ladybug. And Adrien was as good a person as any to be stuck with. He was friendly and conversational, asking her plenty of questions and seeming genuinely interested in her responses. Not to mention the fact that he was hilariously goofy in a way that continually took her by surprise. With Adrien by her side, Marinette might even go as far as to say the whole thing was fun (except for the ever-present threat of creepy crawlies and critters skittering underfoot).

She knew they would inevitably have to leave the shelter of the closet and Marinette couldn’t help but feel a pang of remorse at the thought, already mourning the loss of their tiny safe haven. She knew instinctively that as soon as they stepped outside that door, the protective bubble surrounding them would shatter, and reality (and for her at least, responsibility) would set in and things would be different. 

But not now. Not yet. Everything outside was still so uncertain that for the time being, Marinette didn’t feel guilty making the decision to stay where they were. Safe. Content.

Together.

“It might be best if we stay where we are for now.”

Marinette turned, surprised to hear Adrien voicing the very thought that had been on the tip of her tongue.

Mistaking her startled look for confusion, he hastened to elaborate.

“I just think it might be safer if we waited here for a bit longer. We don’t know where the akuma went or how far away he is. From the sounds of it, he’s moved pretty far – maybe even outside – but there’s never any guarantee with these things.” Here he paused, lips pursing, eyes narrowed in thought. “We could be walking right into a trap for all we know.”

She stared, taking in the look of concentration on his face; the glint in his eyes as he coolly and confidently discussed strategy. It all reminded her so strongly of her partner that she was momentarily struck speechless. Adrien continued to mumble to himself, gingerly picking his way across the room and examining its contents, either unaware of her scrutiny or unbothered by it. In fact, he seemed entirely too calm for someone who was, at this very moment, being pursued by a possessed, basketball-wielding monster.

A niggling suspicion began to form in the back of her mind.

“How are you so calm about all of this?”

Adrien jumped, whirling to face her and almost knocking over a shelf full of baseball equipment in the process. Eyes wide in his suddenly too pale face, he began spluttering, flapping his hands as if to ward off her question (or possibly the cloud of dust that had descended on him).

“Who, me? Nope. No way. I am super not calm. In fact, I am probably the most not-calm person you will ever meet. And I have definitely never been in a situation like this before which would cause me to react calmly. _Definitely not_!” He squeaked, his voice rising about an octave on the word  _not_.

Nonplussed, Marinette could do nothing except blink owlishly.

He coughed into a fist before speaking again, this time pitching his voice to a more normal register. “I’m really not calm. I guess I just…”

A pause followed, one that had Marinette waiting with bated breath. In a very bizarre way, she was glad to be trapped in a closet with Adrien. Having the chance to actually talk to him – with real words constructed to form real sentences! – gave her the opportunity to learn more about him from his very own lips, instead of online or from interviews in fashion magazines. He seemed to be genuinely opening up to her, which left her feeling giddy and excited. Sure, it was occasionally awkward and stunted, but it was conversation nonetheless and Marinette felt they were making progress.

Until now. 

As the silence began to stretch to the point of discomfort, two things became very clear to Marinette: any secret Adrien had been on the verge of sharing would not be forthcoming, and whatever level of comfort or openness she thought they’d established had been swiftly and abruptly ended.

She slumped, feeling unreasonably disappointed. She was so absorbed in her own dejection, in fact, that she almost missed his next words - spoken in a voice that was barely more than a whisper.

“One time my dad was targeted by an akuma… I’m not sure what he did or why it happened. But it was scary.  _Really_ scary.”

Marinette felt her breath catch.  _Jackady._

That was a fight that continued to haunt her. Even now she would occasionally find herself waking in the middle of the night, on the edge of a scream, plagued by nightmares filled with playing cards, cruel laughter, and the feeling of desperate hands grabbing at her and pulling until she felt like she would rip apart at the seams.

“I could do nothing but watch as a bunch of mindless zombies came after me and my dad. It was awful.” His voice caught, and the sheer agony in it caused her chest to constrict painfully. “He’s all I have left.”

 _I know,_ she wanted to scream _. That’s why I did it. For you_.  _I protected him to protect_ you.

Suddenly Adrien’s face lit up with a smile full of such adoration and awe that Marinette was left reeling, blinking the stars out of her eyes.

“And then Ladybug came. And she was so amazing and graceful and—and _miraculous_ —that I wasn’t afraid anymore. She beat the bad guy and saved the day, just like she always does. So this time I  _am_ scared – of course I’m scared. But I trust Ladybug more than my own fear. Because she saved me.”

His eyes shined with sincerity and— Wait, were those _tears_ —?

“She saved my _dad_.”

Those words, filled with such tenderness and reverence and vulnerability, were her undoing. Marinette’s heart felt like it was simultaneously imploding and exploding, pressing against her rib cage and filling the pit of her stomach and the backs of her eyes with warmth. She felt so full of emotion that she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or to weep. Instead she settled for a soft, “Oh,  _wow_.”

Wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, Adrien looked chagrined. “Sorry about going off like that. You must be getting tired of hearing me talk about Ladybug. I know Nino does.”

“No, not at all!” She winced at the sound of her own voice, too loud and too abrupt in the small room. “It’s… nice, actually.”

She bit her lip, uncertain whether she wanted to voice the question that was burning at the back of her throat.

“Do you…" Marinette knew it was too late to turn back now. "You like her a lot, don’t you?”

She felt her heart flutter, stomach filled with butterflies at the tender look that stole across the blonde’s face.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “Yeah, I do.”

_Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Adrien Agreste are alone in a storage closet. If Adrien Agreste confesses to liking Ladybug and Marinette Dupain-Cheng is Ladybug, and Marinette likes Adrien who inadvertently likes Marinette, what are the odds that Marinette’s head will explode?_

  
“Marinette?”  
  
  
_This device is set to self-destruct in 5._

  
“Hello?” 

_  
4_

  
“Marinette, can you hear me?”

_  
3_

  
“Are you alright?”

_  
2_

  
“Okay, you’re seriously starting to worry me. Your face is turning a really weird colour...”

 

_1_

“EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE—”

 

Marinette clamped her hands over her mouth, almost but not quite succeeding in muffling the high-pitched squeal that burst out of her.

Adrien, who was leaning over her in concern, reared back in fright, letting out a string of expletives colourful enough to make even the likes of Alix Kubdel blush. His legs hit the back of a crate and without warning, he was toppling over it backwards, landing flat on his back with a startled “Oof!”, legs sticking straight up in the air.

Several beats of silence passed, both teens too stunned to move.

Neither was really sure who started giggling first, but suddenly the two of them were collapsed on the floor side-by-side, completely overcome with laughter.

Marinette was laughing so hard she swore her sides would split with the force of her mirth. She couldn’t even look at him, for fear of rupturing something at the memory of Adrien Agreste, Parisian poster boy and model extraordinaire, tumbling arse over teakettle over _a box of_   _shuttlecocks_.

She heard Adrien snort and suddenly she was off again, tears streaming down her face as she fought to catch her breath.

“Y-your face,” she wheezed. “I – ha – can’t – ha ha!”

“Hah, like you’re one to talk,” the blonde giggled – Adrien Agreste,  _giggling!_ – pushing himself into a sitting position before getting to his feet. “What kind of noise  _was_ that? It sounded like a cross between a pterodactyl and a boiling kettle.”

Marinette ignored his jive, accepting the hand he offered to help her up and firing right back with a taunt of her own. “And those swear words, _ooh la la_! I never thought I’d see the day that such strong language came out of Adrien Agreste’s pretty little mouth. What would the tabloids say?”

He poked her in the side. She swatted his hand away lightly. They grinned at one another, eyes bright, still running high on endorphins from their laughing fit.

Marinette took a step back, gulping as a light that could best be described as devilish suddenly entered his eyes. He leaned in close, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, his face incredibly handsome even when painted in shadows.

“Now what’s this about my ‘pretty little mouth’?”

  
A shrill scream pierced the air before she could respond, causing both teens to freeze in place.

_Oh no._

Marinette felt like she’d been doused in ice water, all the air driven from her lungs.

 _  
I forgot about the akuma_.

  
She had to get out of here. She had to transform. People needed her.  _Chat_ needed her.

 _  
Oh god,_ Chat.

  
How long had she left him alone out there? Was he okay? She prayed to God that he was, because if anything had happened to him while she was in here—while she was _flirting with Adrien_ —she thought she might be physically ill. She felt so stupid; her stomach churning with a mixture of guilt and self-loathing at the thought that citizens were out there possibly suffering at the hands of an akuma while she hid away in a closet, laughing and talking and enjoying the alone time with her crush.

 _  
Adrien wouldn’t like Ladybug if he knew what she was actually like – what_ you _were actually like_.

  
"Marinette, where are you going? Wait it’s not safe out there—!"

_  
Irresponsible. Selfish. Weak._

  
She lurched forward, grabbing at the handle of the door and yanking.

**  
_Coward._ **

  
It didn’t budge.

  
Marinette froze, her heart plummeting through her stomach and the floor to somewhere far beneath their feet.  _This couldn’t be happening_.

  
The door was locked.

* * *

 


	2. Alley Whoops

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien needs to learn the meaning of the words, "Talk less, smile more." And Marinette learns that sometimes being right really, REALLY sucks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, this chapter is unbeta-ed and i apologize for any typos! 
> 
> on a completely unrelated note: does anyone have any friends that enjoy beta-reading and are looking for something to do in their spare time...

_An hour earlier_

  
-x-  
 

A shrill whistle blew.

“All right, children! Today we’re going to be playing the _greatest sport_  of ALL TIME!”

Marinette winced at their instructor’s enthusiasm, far too tired to care what agony – sorry, _activity_ – they would be subjected to today.

It wasn’t that she disliked physical activity or exertion, per se – she kind of enjoyed it in all honesty. Plus it sort of came with the whole ‘superhero’ thing – but she absolutely abhorred the environment in most gym classes. It was just an opportunity for the stronger, more athletic students to show-off – inflating their already over-inflated egos – while rubbing it in the faces of the less athletic kids. It was basically just playground bullying under the guise of education, and the thought really caused Marinette’s gears to grind.

She would rather be at home doing something important, like designing or helping her parents in the bakery. Hell, she'd even prefer  _studying._

She yawned widely. Or maybe sleeping. Sleep was good too.

(If she ever found the person who'd had the brilliant idea of putting physical education at the end of a long school day, the two of them would be _having words_.)

“It’s a sport that requires agility, endurance, and incredible hand-eye coordination. Any guesses as to what it is?”

When it became evident that no response was forthcoming, the teacher began to finger his whistle and eye them all forebodingly. This was cause for some nervous shifting among the class, and prompted several students to begin spouting off half-hearted answers.

“Football?” Called a nervous voice near the back. Marinette thought it might have been Nathanaël.

“Wrong-o!” M. Étienne crowed, seemingly drawing pleasure from shutting down his students’ responses.

“Uh, tennis?”

“Pfft, as _if_!”

“Track and field!” cried Kim, jumping up and pumping a fist in the air.

“Are you even trying?” M. Étienne sniffed, eyeing Kim with disdain. A few students snorted, and Alix hit a now rather cowed looking Kim in the back of the knee, causing him to fall back to the floor. “And keep those fists where I can see 'em, Kubdel.”

He turned away, and Alix took the opportunity to flip him off, narrowly avoiding discovery when he swung back around at the sound of collective snickering. He began to scowl darkly, patience running thin. “Does anyone else have any other bright ideas or are we just going to sit here chit-chatting for an hour?”

“Boxing?” Someone else tried and Marinette had to give them credit. She’d dealt with akuma that were nicer than M. Étienne when he was in a bad mood. She was taking the tried and true approach of hiding behind Alya and avoiding eye-contact at all costs (which also happened to be her survival method when forced into social situations involving a certain blonde-haired, green-eyed model). So far it had proven to be quite effective.

This time the teacher actually guffawed. “As much as I’d love to watch all of you beat the snot out of one another, no. That would involve far too much paperwork for me, and probably several lawsuits.” 

“Is it basketball?” 

Momentarily taken by surprise, M. Étienne turned, his eyes landing on the speaker. Adrien sat cross-legged on the floor like the rest of the class; but where the rest of them were slouched and sprawled gracelessly, he was poised and elegant, his posture immaculate. Marinette sat up a little straighter self-consciously. Everything this boy did looked like it was directly out of a magazine spread, and the worst part was he probably didn't even know he was doing it. Friggin' models. 

He held the teacher's eye for several beats before looking away.

Although Adrien's tone when addressing their teacher had been nothing if not respectful, Marinette happened to catch a glimpse of his eyes as the blonde turned away; they were like chips of emerald – cold and flat, and barely hiding his distaste for the man and his behaviour.

Marinette felt strangely vindicated. Because if the literal human embodiment of a cinnamon roll - and quite possibly the nicest person she knew - thought their teacher was a dick, then it had to be true. 

Clapping, M. Étienne grinned mockingly. “Quite right, M. Agreste. Clearly your good taste translates to more than just fancy clothing.”

Adrien's back tensed. He was clearly discomfited by the instructor’s not-so subtle dig, judging by the almost imperceptible hunch to his shoulders. Marinette felt her hackles rise. _Just who the hell did this guy think he was_?

M. Étienne was a relatively new teacher, having taken over just last month from their old instructor who was out on maternity leave. M. Étienne was young – probably only in his mid-twenties – and rather handsome, with close-cropped brown hair, a sharp jawline and a body that most professional athletes would kill for. This meant that he’d generated quite the buzz upon his arrival, with both students and teachers quickly succumbing to his charms. This also meant that he was probably the most pompous, self-absorbed, arrogant ass-hat Marinette had ever met. Which actually said a lot considering the fact that she went to school with Chloé ‘I-am-the-centre-of-the-universe’ Bourgeois.

Marinette could acknowledge that their teacher was good-looking - in a ‘meathead jock’ sort of way - but his personality was so horrendous that she couldn’t bring herself to look at him as anything more than a boorish brute.

“M. Agreste. Since you’re so clever, why don’t you share with the class exactly how you divined what activity we’d be doing today?” Adrien’s brow furrowed, visibly thrown by the question. M. Étienne smiled, practically radiating smug satisfaction at having regained the upper hand.

“You mean other than the cart of basketballs over in the corner, sir?”

Everyone – including their teacher – whipped to face the direction Adrien was pointing. Sure enough, there was a rack full of orange balls sitting innocently in the corner, only partially hidden by the bleachers. This time the class’s snickering was full-blown laughter.

The smile disappeared.

M. Étienne stomped over and snatched two balls from the cart, his gaze never once leaving Adrien’s.

“All right, Agreste. If you’re so smart, how’s about you and I have a little bet?”

* * *

 

Marinette stood poised along the sidelines with the rest of her classmates, anxiously watching the events unfolding on the court.

M. Étienne had challenged Adrien to a shootout and for some ungodly reason, Adrien had  _accepted_.  

The rules for the competition were straightforward: Both participants were given a ball. They would shoot from the free-throw line, alternating back and forth, attempting to out shoot one another. There would be no interfering, heckling, or any type of unsportsmanlike behaviour allowed. Just a clean, sudden-death style showdown. Miss a shot, game over.

What could _possibly_ go wrong?

Although Marinette was unbelievably excited to finally get the chance to see Adrien in action – Alya had leaned over to warn her that she was doing the “butt-wiggle” again, whatever _that_ meant – she couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. The tension was running extremely high, and if Marinette had learned anything in the past two-and-a-half years of being Ladybug, it was that paroxysms of emotion usually brought Hawkmoth running.

So far in the competition the two had been matching each other shot for shot, but Marinette knew eventually someone would miss and the proverbial shit would hit the proverbial fan.

“Go Adrikins!” Chloé squealed when Adrien made a shot, forcing Sabrina to clap in her stead so the blonde could continue filing her nails.

Alya was filming the whole thing on her phone, no doubt intending to put it up on the school blog immediately after class. Nino was standing beside her, celebrating along with Chloé and the others whenever Adrien made a basket (albeit with slightly more restraint). And Alix and Kim - as was their style - had started a betting pool, placing money on who would emerge victorious. It appeared that popular opinion was split fairly evenly down the middle, yet Marinette couldn't help noting that the longer the competition wore on, the more people seemed to be placing their money on Adrien. And for good reason.

Although M. Étienne was clearly a talented and experienced player – his stance was firm and his movements were well-practiced as he shot goal after goal from the free-throw line – it was obvious that Adrien was better. Marinette wasn't incredibly familiar with basketball, but even she could tell that Adrien's stance and technique were flawless. He made each basket look effortless, hardly breaking a sweat even as the match drew on. This fact alone seemed to drive their teacher even crazier.

He snatched the ball out of the air before Adrien could make his next shot, causing a few students to cry out at the clear violation of the rules. “I say we make this a little more interesting! Same bet, but new parameters: we shoot from the three-point line.”

Adrien’s face was uncharacteristically blank, but his eyes were blazing as he gave a short nod. “Whatever you say, sir.”

The blonde grunted, just managing to catch the ball thrown his way with what was probably more force than strictly necessary. Dribbling the ball easily, he joined their teacher at the three-point line; Marinette and the rest of the class were not long to follow, sensing that the end of the competition was fast-approaching. 

“All right, golden boy. We know you can shoot free-throws passably well, but how about three-pointers?” M. Étienne’s eyes were downright mean as he stared his student down, and Marinette wondered for the hundredth time how anyone had ever found this man attractive; he was nothing but an overgrown bully. “Since I shot last, you’re up first.”

Angry muttering began among the students. 

_Did he seriously just..._

“He interrupted his shot,” Marinette hissed, instantly furious. “ _Adrien_ shot last, but M. Étienne intercepted it! He broke the rules and now he's _lying_ about it!” Alya shot her a sympathetic glance, her face showing all of the disgust and outrage that Marinette knew was mirrored in her own. The redhead quickly became diverted by her phone, determined to record every second of the altercation. Judging by her friend's laser-like focus, there would no doubt be some choice commentary accompanying the video when she uploaded it. Alya had her Big Scoop™ face on, and Marinette couldn’t help but feel grateful for her friend’s journalistic tendencies if it meant that this gross misuse of authority wouldn’t go unpunished. 

Money and goods were exchanging hands at a near-frenzied rate now; last minute bets being placed as Adrien lined up at the three-point line. 

He dribbled once, set his feet and shot.

_Swish!_

Marinette cheered with the rest of the class as the ball sunk satisfyingly into the net. Their teacher was actually beginning to look a little nervous now, suddenly finding himself under the expectant gazes of almost twenty 16-year-olds. 

He dribbled, taking his time to set his stance and line up his shot. He raised the ball.

“Sir, you’re over the line.”

M. Étienne jolted, taken aback by Adrien’s interruption.

“What did you just say to me?”

Adrien’s voice was slow, as if he were talking to a child instead of a full-grown man. “Your foot is over the line.” 

A cursory glance at the ground proved that yes, the toes of his left foot were indeed several inches over the black line, and in direct violation of the rules. For a brief moment, the instructor's face was absolutely thunderous - eyes incandescent with rage - before he promptly schooled his features to a more placid expression.

“So it is. Glad to see you were paying attention, Agreste.”

Taking a step back, he did his routine again. Lined up the ball. Shot.

But this time something was off.

Still unmistakably thrown by the disruption, Marinette and her classmates watched as M. Étienne’s shot fell embarrassingly short, still several meters from the basket. His eyes were wide with horror as he watched the ball fall to the ground, bouncing sadly before rolling away. 

Marinette couldn’t tear her eyes from their teacher even as the rest of her class burst into raucous applause, swarming Adrien and bombarding him with high-fives, triumphant fist-bumps and congratulations. She watched as M. Étienne walked slowly toward where the basketball was lying on the ground, clutching the whistle at his neck tightly. Because of where she was standing, Marinette was afforded a perfect view of his face as he walked away.

It was a mask of pure, unbridled fury. 

She felt a chill wash over her. _Oh, this was not good._

* * *

 

The last thing Laurence Étienne ever wanted to be was a teacher.

He couldn’t stand children in any way, shape or form. He barely tolerated his own nieces and nephews, much to the chagrin of his parents and the vexation of his siblings. Therefore it stood to reason that the last vocation he would have ever chosen for himself would be one that had him surrounded by children, 8+ hours a day, five days a week.

However, when a knee injury in university put a swift and brutal end to his dreams of being a professional athlete, he was left with only so many career options. Being a teacher was the only one that offered him a modicum of freedom, decent benefits and a salary that was just enough to scrape by on.

But he couldn’t help being bitter about his lot in life, especially on days like today.

“That damn Agreste kid,” he cursed, kicking a basketball angrily. It flew back and hit him in the shin, causing his already black mood to blacken further. “Thinks he’s hot shit… What I wouldn’t give to give that kid what’s coming to him…”

Reduced to being shown up by some snot-nosed, wannabe-model rich kid. Laurence gnashed his teeth, practically seeing red. 

He’d show him…

 **_Foulplay. I am Hawkmoth. I can grant you the ability to enact vengeance upon those you seek. Give you power beyond your wildest dreams. I can make you faster, stronger - I can make you the_ ** **best _._**

 ** _But first, you must acquire that which_ I _seek…_**  

“Game on, Hawkmoth.”

 

* * *

 

The class had yet to notice their teacher’s departure, so caught up were they in their revelry.

Adrien was at the centre of all the action, people clamouring and vying for his attention. Nino was there as well, his arm slung across his best friend's shoulders and grinning like a proud dad. The blonde started to say something, but was cut off as Nino began playfully clobbering him with noogies. They dissolved into laughter while Alya looked on, an exasperated but fond expression on her face. Standing in front of the two boys with ever-present phone still raised, the redheaded reporter appeared to begin bombarding Adrien with a series of questions.

The three were interrupted when Chloé came flying through crowd, ruthlessly elbowing people out of the way in her haste to get to Adrien. She glommed on to the boy, unabashedly demonstrative with her affections, and seemingly unperturbed even as he winced and squirmed out of her hold.

It was clear that everyone was riding high on the excitement - chatting amongst themselves and rehashing the highlights of the match. 

Everyone except Marinette, that is.

She fidgeted anxiously, knowing they were running on borrowed time yet at a loss for how to proceed. It was too late to run after M. Étienne now, and it would look too suspicious if she started evacuating people before a threat actually presented itself. They probably only had minutes until Hawkmoth felt the disturbance and sent one of his blasted butterflies. She had to find a way to get everyone out of there, before he had the chance to—

An explosion rent the air, followed by the sound of maniacal laughter.

“WHO WANTS TO PLAY A GAME?”

Marinette swore.

Chaos swiftly descended. At the appearance of the akuma people began to scream, scattering every which way, no one exactly sure of the best way to go. Adrien was caught up in the middle of the madness, being jostled to and fro by the herds of frantic people trying to escape.

Adrenaline began to flood her system, instincts taking over. Even if she wasn’t Ladybug at the moment, she knew she had to act. This akuma – without a doubt M. Étienne – would unquestionably be targeting Adrien for the humiliation caused by their match. And as a completely objective third party observer with absolutely no personal interest in the matter, Marinette couldn’t very well stand by and let an akuma get its hands on an innocent civilian. Not if there was anything she could do to stop it. 

She was Ladybug, _damnit_. She could put personal feelings like crushes aside in favour of the greater good.

...Probably. She was about to find out in any case. 

She thrust a hand into the writhing mass, grasping a wrist she hoped was Adrien’s and tugging with all her might. He emerged, looking slightly disoriented and dishevelled, his eyes lighting on her with recognition and no small amount of concern.

“Marinette, what are you doing here? You should be escaping!”

“That’s what I _am_ doing. Now less talking, more running!” 

She took off as fast as she could, nimbly darting around any obstacles that appeared in her way. She didn’t have time to check and see if Alya or Nino were all right, but she trusted her friends to know how to get themselves to safety.

(And by that she meant she trusted Nino to drag his girlfriend bodily away from danger if she tried to get too close.)

After his initial surprise wore off, she felt Adrien’s hand - warm and large and solid - wrap around her wrist tightly as he began matching her pace. This really shouldn’t have come as a shock to her - considering all of the athletic training he must have underwent in his lifetime - but she still found herself a bit amazed to feel him keeping up with her stride for stride as they sprinted across the gymnasium.

Since receiving her Miraculous, Marinette had noticed the ways in which her body had changed. Some of Ladybug’s physical attributes and abilities – which she had thought were strictly limited to her body in the suit - had started lingering even after the transformation had worn-off. She was more flexible and agile than the average person, and her strength and endurance were far beyond what they feasibly should be for someone of her stature and civilian lifestyle. She usually did her best to camouflage this fact – not wanting to draw unnecessary attention to herself – but there was no time to worry about that now. 

She had to get Adrien to safety. She’d worry about people thinking she was on steroids later. 

“Where are we going?” Adrien hollered, trying to be heard over the din.

Her eyes darted around frantically, searching for a place for them to hide.

 _  
Straight ahead?  
  
_ Main entrance. Too far, they’d never make it.  
  
_Behind?_

Emergency exit. Too risky, seeing as how it was currently being blocked by an akuma.

 _Right?_  
  
Storage closet tucked in between the bleachers. Probably gross and full of garbage, so that was a hard no.

 _That meant the only remaining option was_ …  
  
Marinette’s eyes lit upon the door leading to the locker rooms and she veered left.  
  
_That could work_.

“Ah, ah, ah!” The akuma tut-tutted, jumping over their heads and landing directly in their path, the rubber soles of his sneakers squeaking against the linoleum floor. “Not so fast, punks!”

She skidded to a halt, Adrien nearly ploughing into her. 

_Damnit._

Finally able to get a good look at the akuma, Marinette felt her pulse quicken. This guy was _huge_ , coming in at well over seven feet tall, with the intimidating looks to match his imposing stature. Dressed in a sickly purple basketball uniform, his skin was midnight blue - a shade that contrasted violently with the persimmon colour of his eyes and the swirling mass of orange hair atop his head.

No wait. That wasn’t hair at all.

Those were real, _honest to god flames sprouting from the top of his head_.

“Holy shit,” Adrien breathed, eyes widening.

The akuma gave a cruel facsimile of a smile, teeth a white slash in his indigo face.

“Adrien Agreste, just the person I was looking for! I’ve got a bone to pick with you,” the akuma advanced menacingly, dribbling the basketball at his side with increasing speed.

“Which one?” Adrien quipped, all cheek even in the face of what was almost certain doom.

Marinette cut her eyes at him, aghast.

_DOES THIS IDIOT HAVE A DEATH WISH?_

The akuma’s face darkened. “That depends… Which one do you want me to break first?”

Adrien’s face paled.

_Think, Marinette. THINK._

_We need somewhere to hide and we need it_  now.

She glanced to the side, eyes catching on the storage closet; the beginnings of a crackpot plan already forming in her brain. It was a risk. But it might be their only hope.

She gasped histrionically, pointing toward the main entrance over the akuma’s shoulder and hoping her half-baked scheme might actually work. “OH MY GOD, IS THAT TONY PARKER?” 

The akuma spun around, giving Marinette the time to grab Adrien and make a dive for the storage closet.

 _Please be open please be open please be open—_  

Her hand connected with the handle.

_—pleasepleasepleasepleasePLEASE!_

The door swung open with ease.

“Quick, get inside!”

She shoved Adrien in front of her, following immediately on his heels. Quietly closing the door as fast as she could, Marinette sent up a prayer that her luck would hold and that they’d made it undetected.

 _I don’t know if anyone can hear me or is even listening to this but please please_ please _let us get through this. I’ll do anything, I swear. I’ll even be nice to_ Chloé _._

“Where is Tony Parker, I don’t see—“ 

There was a pause on the other side of the door, before a roar of frustration tore through the air.

“DAMN YOU, BRATS. WHERE DID YOU GO?”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter takes place directly before the events of chapter one, in case i didn't make that clear. i wanted to give y'all a little context before moving the story forward. 
> 
> also i honestly have no idea how many chapters this story is going to be, but i don't foresee it being too much longer. maybe one or two more chapters to go before the end? 
> 
> (at this point your guess is as good as mine LOL.) 
> 
> ANYWAY. ヽ(*゜∀゜*)ノ
> 
> thank you for reading, and to those of you who took the time to comment on the last chapter - your kind words made (and continue to make) writing this so much easier! 
> 
> hope you guys enjoyed and i look forward to hearing what you all think!


	3. Teamwork Makes The Dream Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Adrien tries his hand at an identity reveal, and Marinette beats him to the punch.

_Present._

_-x-_

 

“Damnit, damnit, _damnit_!” Marinette swore, angrily slamming her fist against the door. Adrien, surprised by her outburst, flinched back at the sound.

 

She’d been pacing back and forth now for several minutes, ever since they’d discovered that even with their combined strength, the door simply refused to budge. While the situation made Adrien nervous – he wasn’t necessarily comfortable with the idea of letting Ladybug handle the akuma all on her own – it seemed to make Marinette downright frantic.

 

In the dim light provided by the storage closet, he took in his classmate’s agitated stance – the tense line of her shoulders, the furrowed brow over eyes that were darting every which way – and it suddenly became clear to him.

 

She was afraid.

 

Adrien felt his gut clench at the thought of Marinette - strong, brave, seemingly fearless Marinette – trapped in a dark closet, cowering in fear while an akuma raged somewhere nearby. He owed it to her, as her friend, and to her parents and all of the people who loved and cared about her to ensure that she made it out of here safely.

 

But that meant sacrificing his secret, betraying Ladybug’s trust and their explicit agreement, and potentially putting Marinette’s life even more at risk. It was one thing to reveal his identity to Ladybug; it was something entirely different revealing that he was Chat Noir to his civilian classmate, who was susceptible to Hawkmoth’s manipulations.

 

Yet every moment that he hesitated put both of them, and the people of Paris, further at risk. He knew that Ladybug was probably making out fine, and that she could handle herself, but the reality of the situation was that she shouldn’t _have_ to. Ladybug and Chat Noir were a team and they were stronger together.

 

Adrien took a deep breath.

 

It was his job as a hero and protector of Paris to ensure the safety of all of her citizens. He may not be able to do anything to help Ladybug at the moment, but he could at least try to help the black-haired girl whose company he was presently keeping.

 

Secret identity be damned. Ladybug could forgive him later.

 

“Don’t worry, Marinette,” Adrien forced a smile, reaching out to place a hand on her shoulder and ignoring how his stomach twisted with nerves. _Here goes everything_. “I’m sure Ladybug will take care of things. But there’s something really important that I have to—”

 

“That might be a little difficult.”

 

Puzzled (and a little offended at the perceived slight to the sheer magnificence that was Ladybug), Adrien choked back the rest of his sentence, his mouth closing with an audible snap.

 

“What is _that_ supposed to mean?” Adrien asked, almost glaring at the back of her head. It stood to reason that perhaps Marinette wasn’t much of a Ladybug fan – although Adrien had a hard time believing that such people _existed_ – but it wouldn’t make much sense considering how many times Ladybug had saved their lives and the lives of their friends. If he was being entirely honest, part of him was slightly hurt by her response, seeing as how he had basically confessed his undying love for Ladybug about fifteen minutes prior. He admired both girls endlessly, and the thought that there was bad blood between them caused his insides to knot uncomfortably.

 

If anything Adrien had always thought that the two girls would get along well, seeing as how their personalities were so similar, not to mention their appearances. Blue eyes, black hair worn in pigtails – which he had always taken as a subtle nod to Paris’ spotted heroine – Adrien’s inner fanboy couldn’t help but think that Marinette would make a great Ladybug cosplayer. The two could practically pass for sisters, maybe even twins.

 

_Wait a minute_ …

 

Before Adrien could continue with his rapidly derailing train of thought, a small, firm voice spoke. “There’s no helping it, Marinette. There’s no time.”

 

Adrien knew he was probably gaping unattractively, but couldn’t bring himself to care as he watched a red kwami (because _holy shit that little flying red thing was definitely a kwami_ ) fly out of Marinette’s pocket.

 

“Wha—?”

 

Marinette spun to face him, mouth set in a grim line and blue eyes hard with resolve. He knew that expression; he’d seen it on the face of another girl nearly a thousand times. Adrien felt the ground shift beneath them and for a split-second, he wasn’t sure if it was caused by the akuma or the words that came tumbling out of her mouth.

 

“It might be difficult because I _am_ Ladybug.”

 

.

.

.

 

_What._

 

“Tikki, transforme-moi!”

 

.

.

.

 

_WHAT?_

 

-x-

 

For a brief instant, Adrien honestly thought he was dreaming.

 

Marinette standing across from him, confessing to having been his partner all along absolutely had to be a dream.

 

Marinette being engulfed by a bright pink glow – so brilliant, it caused him to wince and raise a hand to cover his eyes. That could definitely happen in dreams. Probably. A rush of warmth and light and magic momentarily filling the small room, illuminating it from corner to corner. It _had_ to be a dream.

 

Ladybug standing in Marinette’s place.

 

_It wasn’t a dream_.

 

Ladybug staring at him, looking uncertain and awkward and _exactly like Marinette in a red and black spotted spandex suit and mask_.

 

_I am an idiot._

Adrien’s knees buckled and he found himself flat on his butt, gawking up at the girl he’d been sitting in front of for over a year and the partner he’d been in love with for just as long.

 

“Oh my god,” he breathed.

 

“Um, hi?” Ladybug – _Marinette_ – said, waving somewhat awkwardly. “I know this might be slightly surprising for you and you probably have some questions but I _really_ need to get out of here and deal with that akuma so if you’d just stay here until I come back for you that would be great okayg _ottagoBYE_!”

 

With that she wrenched on the door handle, easily dislodging it with the aid of her suit-granted super strength.

 

“Wait!” Adrien called, desperately reaching a hand out toward her. But she was already gone, disappearing through the doorway between one blink and the next.

 

Adrien stared blankly at the spot where she had been moments before, trying to process how completely his world had changed in the span of no more than two minutes.

 

“Well, well. What an _unexpected_ turn of events.”

 

Adrien scowled.

 

“You knew this whole time, didn’t you.” A statement, not even a question.

 

Plagg was practically radiating smugness as he floated into view, his mouth already open to deliver what would no doubt be a smart-ass remark.

 

Adrien held up a finger. “Never mind. Just get in the ring.”

 

* * *

 

  

“I can’t – _believe_ – I just – did that – oh – my – _GOD_.”

 

Marinette panted, breaths rasping harshly in her chest. She felt unnaturally winded, her heart thrashing a painful rhythm against her sternum. It throbbed, beating so forcefully that she could actually see her chest pulsating.

 

_Thu-thump_.

 

_Thu-thump_.

 

She paused, morbidly fascinated and ensnared by the movement.

 

_Thu—_

Adrien’s ashen face, staring up at her from the dirty gymnasium floor.

 

_— **thump**_.

 

Marinette flinched, trying to repress the images that were rising unbidden to her mind.

 

Those infamous green eyes, normally so warm and beautiful, blown wider than she’d ever seen them.

 

He’d looked horrified.

 

She pressed a hand to her chest, pushing down hard against the rapid thrum of her heart and the panic she could feel blossoming. She couldn’t do this here. Not now— with the smell of smoke and the sound of mounting chaos in the air. There was no time to falter or show weakness. Right now she had to be Ladybug: the loveable and unflappable heroine of Paris. She would save the people of Paris from Hawkmoth’s evil machinations once again and she would do it with a smile because that was her job, damnit.

 

Later, when she went back to being weak and uncertain and regrettably human Marinette, she would deal with the Molotov cocktail of emotions she was currently holding in her chest.

 

Taking a deep breath, she vaulted onto the roof of the school.

 

-x-

 

**BAM!**

Ladybug stared bemusedly at the smoking crater where her face had been 0.2 seconds earlier.

 

“Well, I think it’s safe to say—”

 

She felt the hair on the back of her neck rise a split second before her instincts started screaming. 

 

_Move!_

 

She threw herself into a hasty somersault, narrowly avoiding the akuma’s next attack. Using the momentum to vault to her feet, she deflected what she could with her yoyo before beating a hasty retreat.

 

“—that I officially hate basketball now.” She finished, gritting her teeth with annoyance.

 

She’d been single-handedly facing off against the akuma for what was probably only fifteen minutes now, but felt like an eternity. With every minute that passed, Ladybug could feel her focus slipping and her frustration rising. She was increasingly hard-pressed to keep up with the akuma’s seemingly endless stream of attacks, let alone launch any countermeasures of her own.

 

And, to top it all off, Chat Noir was _nowhere to be found_.

 

It would seem that despite her previous fears, her partner had yet to make an appearance on the scene, and Ladybug’s initial feelings of relief were quickly giving way to annoyance with every flaming orange projectile that came dangerously close to singeing off her eyebrows.

 

“Turn over your miraculous, Ladybug!” The akuma screeched, sending another cascade of fiery basketballs flying her way. “I am Foul Play, and today we’re playing by MY rules!”

 

Ladybug wasted no time taking off. She leapt, rolling and dodging around the flurry of projectiles as she desperately sought a place to hide.

 

“Why – is – it – always – _puns_?” She growled, huffing out the words between breaths.

 

She skidded to a halt behind a chimney, panting. She was seriously beginning to get tired of this akuma. No matter what she did, he seemed to be continually one step ahead of her and his flying fireballs were keeping her solidly on the defensive. Ladybug found herself wishing for the nth time that her partner would show up already. Every minute she spent fending off Foul Play’s reign of terror was time that could be better spent elsewhere.

 

Like, for example, finding the storage closet she’d stashed Adrien Agreste in and maybe attempting to explain this _hot mess_ of a situation to him.

 

“Honestly,” Ladybug grumbled, exasperated. “I’m seriously beginning to think Chat Noir is in cahoots with Hawkmoth, because it can't be humanly possible for two people to exist with such equally terrible senses of humour.”

 

“I will have you know that I find that _purrsonally_ offensive,” a voice drawled from over her shoulder. “My rapier wit is inimitable.”

 

Whirling around, Ladybug felt her heart leap in her chest at the sight of her partner. Chat Noir appeared no worse for the wear, she noted with overwhelming relief, although he seemed to be avoiding making eye contact with her, choosing instead to stare off into the distance distractedly.

 

Too busy trying to tamp down on her swift rising emotions — and what was quite possibly an honest to god _lump_ in her throat— she didn’t stop to think about coming up with a suitably witty or flippant reply.

 

“God, am I ever glad to see you.” She blurted out, her response more candid than she was normally comfortable with. And although the words were slightly garbled and rushed, they rang with sincerity.

 

At this Chat’s eyes snapped to meet hers, widening at whatever emotions he saw there.

 

_One day I will develop a brain-to-mouth filter,_ she thought weakly, already feeling the beginnings of an embarrassed blush rising. _But that day is clearly not today._

 

Before he had the chance to reply, she turned away, wrestling desperately for some semblance of control over herself (and her traitorous mouth). This level of frank emotionality was so unlike her — Ladybug felt turned inside out, all of the vulnerable, unsavoury parts of herself laid out under Chat’s piercing green gaze.

 

It was clear that her encounter with Adrien had left her more shaken than she had anticipated. She was having a harder and harder time putting away the Marinette parts of herself and stepping into the role of Ladybug. She felt like she was slowly splintering, and Marinette was bleeding through the cracks in her Ladybug persona.

 

Stepping forward, Chat opened his mouth to speak but she was already in motion, the familiar weight of her yoyo in her hand helping to anchor her and bring her back to reality.

 

She knew she’d have to explain the situation to Chat, and soon, but they were in the middle of a battle and there was no time to be dwelling on much of anything except surviving.

 

First they would deal with this akuma, _then_ she would tell him about Adrien. And her secret identity. Even if the mere thought sent icy-cold dread shooting through her veins and lodging in her throat and stomach.

 

After everything they’d been through, she owed him that much at least.

 

“All right, Kitty. Let’s get this over with as quickly as possible, hm?”

 

With that she leapt back into battle, knowing without checking that Chat would, as always, be one step behind her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it is 3:45am and this is not proofread. so i would just like to take this time to apologize for all of the typos i inevitably made and also for who i am as a person. (~; 3 ;)~♥
> 
> the next (and most likely final) chapter is already mostly written so it definitely will not take me as long to update as it did this time. thank you all for your comments and subscriptions and bookmarks and kudos. i appreciate every message i get, even if real life usually prevents me from responding to all of you! 
> 
> thank you so much for reading and sticking with me. let me know what you think!


	4. Overtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrien struggles, Marinette fumbles, and love wins out in the end.

There were a lot of things in life that Adrien Agreste knew. How to converse fluently in Mandarin, how to play a decent number, if not all, of Chopin’s Preludes by memory, and—perhaps most impressively—how to successfully guilt Gorilla and Nathalie into turning a blind eye to his increasingly frequent escape attempts.

 

But what he also knew was that today, for some reason or another, there was something seriously, _seriously_ wrong with Ladybug.

 

Er… Marinette.

 

Milady-nette _._

_Mari-bug...?_

“Gah! Why is this so confusing?” Chat groaned, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his cluttered thoughts. This was obviously going to take some getting used to…

 

“Chat, stop muttering and _move_!”

 

Dropping down on all fours, Chat felt the heat of the basketballs as they whizzed by above him, way too close for comfort. He felt like kicking himself. Now was not the time to be getting distracted by semantics of all things. He needed to be focus on the fight because frankly—

 

“This is a mess!” Ladybug cried angrily, moving to swing over to join him. Her attempt was met by another round of fiery projectiles, courtesy of a cackling Foul Play, who appeared to be immensely enjoying the fact that he was running them ragged.

 

Forced back onto an adjacent roof and cut off from Chat for what was possibly the hundredth time, his partner let out a string of expletives that had Chat whistling lowly.

 

Ladybug was _pissed_.

 

“I know, this isn’t working!” Chat hollered back, batting away projectiles with his baton, attempting once again to circle around and re-join Ladybug. They’d been separated early into the fight—the akuma clearly understanding that his chances were better the longer he kept the two heroes from teaming up. “We need a plan!”

 

“I’m working on it!” Ladybug snapped. Chat might have been standing a hundred feet away, but he could read the tension and frustration in the lines of her body as clear as if he was standing right next to her.

 

“I know you are,” he sighed, ruffling the hair at the back of his head. He knew he was probably acting weird in light of, well, _recent revelations_ , but that didn’t explain Ladybug’s odd behaviour. It seemed like she was only half there, her movements sloppy and her mind all over the place. Sure, Foul Play was a crafty bastard, but he wasn’t nearly as strong as some of the villains they’d handled. He was mostly a one-trick pony with the flaming basketball thing. At most, all they’d need to do was have one person create a distraction while the other swept in and snatched the akumatized object. Wham, bam, thank you ma’am.

 

Except Ladybug was clearly off her game, trying to rush through the battle and inadvertently slowing things down in the process.

 

Hence why Chat Noir was Very Confused™.

 

She hadn’t even used her Lucky Charm yet, so it wasn’t related to her transformation.

 

_What else would Ladybug possibly have to rush off for?_

And suddenly, like a bolt of lightning, it hit him.

 

Ladybug was worried. About _Adrien_.

 

The civilian classmate that she’d spilled the biggest and arguably most dangerous secret of her life to; the one she’d left unattended in a gymnasium storage closet while she left to fight the supervillain with a personal vendetta against him. Her worry made sense, in a way. If their roles were reversed, Chat knew he would feel the exact same way at the thought of Marinette, alone and defenseless somewhere.

 

But honestly, the whole situation was just so ridiculous that he couldn’t decide whether to laugh or cry at the absurdity. _I’m right here!_ He wanted to scream. _I’ve been right in front of you this whole time!_

It seemed like virtually all of their problems could be solved over the course of a simple conversation. Yet with Foul Play running rampant, and the possibility of Hawkmoth listening in at any moment, there was no way Chat could safely broach the subject.

 

He’d just have to figure out another way to snap Ladybug out of her funk and get her back to her typical, ass-kicking self.

 

The early stages of a plan began to form in his head.

 

 And this time, he really did burst out laughing.

 

-x-

 

When he found her again, Ladybug was crouched on the roof of the school, taking refuge from a slew of basketballs being volleyed at her head.

“Wow, it looks like someone’s in a foul mood. This guy’s a real basket case if I’ve ever seen one.”

 

Her blue eyes flashed in warning as she glared at him. _Yes_ , Chat thought, swallowing a laugh. _That’s more like it._

 

“I am revoking your right to spoken language, effective immediately.”

 

Chat smirked, his eyes alight with mischief. She could pretend all she wanted that she didn’t like his jokes, but he could see the tension slowly easing out of her frame. “Aw, My Lady, you know you love my puns.”

 

Ladybug rolled her eyes. “False. Your puns are dreadful.”

 

“Blasphemy! I always bring my A-game.”

 

“Stop.” She sighed deeply, the tense line of her shoulders finally, _finally_  slipping down into something more relaxed.

 

He could feel his smile growing wider, stretching across his face until it almost hurt his cheeks. _I’ve got you now, Bugaboo. Hook—_

 

“No need to score-n my jokes.”

 

Her lips were twitching. “Chat, please.”

 

_—line—_

 

“I’ve got puns of steel.”

 

“ _Oh my **god**_.”

_—and sinker._

His partner’s exaggerated groaning was music to Chat Noir’s ears—it sounded an awful lot like sweet _, sweet victory._

He couldn’t help but laugh uproariously at the look of exasperation on her face. It was so Marinette that he felt his heart swell with fondness. Knowing her secret was suddenly like seeing his Lady in a new light, and glimpsing this whole new side of his friend left him feeling almost giddy.

 

She looked over, catching his expression and the joyful grin he could feel plastered across his face. Her playful scowl softened into something warmer, a gentle look that had Adrien’s heart stuttering in his chest.

 

When she smiled, it was equal parts Marinette’s sweetness and Ladybug’s sass, and Adrien gave up trying to fight the feelings swelling within him. He was desperately, hopelessly and irrevocably in love with his classmate slash partner slash friend slash confidante. Ladybug. _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_. 

 

He knew in that moment, without a shadow of a doubt, that they would be okay. Sure, there were a lot of things that needed to be addressed – like feelings and confessions, and no longer secret identities, and where exactly they would go from here – but for now standing together, bathed in late afternoon sunlight, was enough.

 

“What do you say we wrap this up, My Lady?” He held out a fist, waiting.

 

Standing by her side, always.

 

That would be enough.

 

Ladybug paused, glancing between his outstretched hand and his face, before gently reciprocating his fist bump. “Ready when you are, chaton.”

 

He gave her his most flamboyant bow, the tips of his hair practically brushing the ground, and was gratified to hear the warmth of laughter in her voice as she called out a second later.

 

“Lucky Charm!”

 

The item had barely landed in her hands before she was breaking into a run and heading straight for the akuma. Trusting him to know her well enough to connect the dots, she didn’t bother to stop and explain the details of her plan.

 

But then again, she didn’t need to.

 

“Ball’s in your court now, Kitty!” Ladybug hollered, tossing the object to him over her shoulder.

 

Chat whooped ecstatically, grabbing it from mid-air. “Oh, My Lady! You know how I love it when you talk punny to me!”

 

-x-

 

Between the two of them, the fight was relatively simple after that, and in no time flat Ladybug was stomping on the infected object, capturing and purifying the akuma. Chat felt the comforting brush of her magic as clouds of bright red ladybugs rushed off, righting any and all wrongs caused by the attack.

 

Well, _most_ of the wrongs that is.

 

“My Lady?”

 

Ladybug turned from where she was poised at the edge of the roof, yoyo in hand, ready to launch herself off.

 

“Do you have a second?”

 

Ladybug grimaced, reaching for her earrings. “Now’s not really a good time, Chat. I have to go make sure–”

 

“That Adrien’s okay?”

 

Blue eyes widened, her lips parting in surprise.

 

“How…” Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “How did you know that?”

 

Adrien swallowed, steeling his resolve. He had to be honest. He owed her this much at least.

 

“He’s not there.”

 

Ladybug was gazing at him now, her face a mixture of fear and confusion. “Chat, I don’t understand. You’re scaring me. _Where is Adrien_?”

 

“Plagg, claws in.”

 

Ladybug recoiled, raising a hand too late.

 

“Chat—!”

 

He didn’t give her a chance to cover her eyes or look away before the green flash enveloped him. Black leather gave way to soft cotton and denim, black steel-toed boots traded for bright orange sneakers. Chat Noir’s swaggering and bravado fading just like the setting sun, leaving Adrien Agreste in all of his awkward and uncertain glory.

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier,” he blurted out, looking down at his feet, studying the roof tiles below them, too afraid to look up or anywhere even remotely near his partner’s face. He wasn’t sure he could handle the anger and disappointment he was almost certain he would find there.

 

“I tried, but you left before I could say anything and I’m really, _really_ sorry—”

 

“Adrien…?”

 

He stopped at the sound of her soft exhalation, awe and wonder bleeding through her tone. He chanced a peek up at her through his eyelashes.

 

Ladybug was staring at him, eyes the brilliant blue that he loved so much and wider than he had ever seen them. Her hands were pressed against her lips and even from where he was standing, Adrien could tell they were shaking. She looked shocked and off-kilter and overwhelmed, but she didn’t look angry which he took as a good sign.

 

Feeling encouraged, he lifted his head a little further, gazing at her with as much openness and honesty as he could muster.

 

“I know I sprung this on you, and that was kind of unfair of me, but I don’t regret it. I’ve been waiting for this for _so long_ , I could hardly believe it when you finally told me. You trusted me with your secret – _me_ me, not Chat me – and I knew I had to tell you because it wasn’t fair of me to know your secret without sharing my own.”

 

Something warm and heavy settled in his chest as he gazed at his partner, radiant in the golden sunlight. Adrien could hear the affection in his own voice when he spoke again. “I’m glad you know who I am and I’m so glad I know who you are, Marinette.”

 

At the sound of her own name, she shook off some of her stupor. Her eyes roved his face with such intensity that Adrien felt himself flushing under the scrutiny. She took a hesitant step forward, then another, and then she was reaching out towards him.

 

Adrien barely had time to feel the impression of her gloved hand on his face, before the sensation was replaced by tingling magic and finally warm, soft skin.

 

Her thumb lightly traced the skin of his cheekbone, right under where his mask would have ended if he was transformed. He shivered.

 

“All this time,” she breathed. “You were right in front of me all this time.”

 

Her touch was electric; he could feel its buzzing warmth from his head all the way to the tips of his toes. Her presence was like a drug and he felt high on her proximity.

 

He reached up, grasping her hand and holding it to his face.

 

“Great, awesome. You two can now be sickeningly in love with one another instead of mooning from afar, and this infernal love square can return to the fiery depths from whence it came. Now where is my cheese?

 

“ _PLAGG_!”

 

“What? What did I say?”

 

-x-

 

The sun had long disappeared over the horizon before the two made any move to head home, both content to enjoy the other’s company as they vaulted and swung across the Parisian rooftops.

 

Ladybug watched the bustling streets below, and Chat watched her as she gazed fondly down at the people and the city they had both sworn to protect.

 

“Chat?”

 

“Yes, Bugaboo?”

 

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

 

His ears twitched, curiosity peaking. “My Lady can ask of me anything her sweet heart desires. Your wish is my command.”

 

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, and was rewarded with a snort for his efforts.

 

“Does this mean you’ve officially confessed to me now?”

 

Adrien stumbled, barely landing his next jump. Confessed…?

 

_‘You like her a lot, don’t you?’_

He whipped around to face his smirking partner, feeling his cheeks grow redder by the second.

 

“Gah—!”

 

Ladybug leaned in, close enough that Chat was sure he could count the flecks of grey in her irises and the individual freckles on her nose. The look on her face sent a strange, though not entirely unpleasant, heat through him. It travelled down his spine, before pooling languidly in the pit of his stomach. He could feel the puff of her breath as he swayed toward her, eyelids fluttering shut in anticipation.

 

Her lips were light as a feather as they brushed his burning cheek, there and gone before he knew what was happening.

 

His eyes flew open.

 

“For the record, I like you a lot too, Kitty.”

 

Her laughter found him on the breeze as he stood there, rooted in place and completely dumbfounded, watching her dart off across the rooftops.

 

After what felt like an eternity, he finally found his voice.

 

 “You—you cheeky little MINX! GET BACK HERE THIS INSTANT!”

 

He set off at a dead-run, chasing after the sound of her laughter and the promise behind the kiss he could still feel tingling like a brand on his skin.

 

 

**_Fin_**.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not 100% happy with this last chapter but I didn't want to keep ya'll waiting any longer so here we are. THE END. I don't think anyone is more surprised than I am to see that I actually managed to complete a multi-chapter fic for the first time in the history of my existence.
> 
> (; v ;)
> 
> (ALSO just a side-note: some of you may have noticed that I changed the title of this fic. that is because I really didn't like what I had come up with originally lol whoops. sorry for any confusion that may have caused!!) 
> 
> Anyway thank you to those of you who stuck with me through this whole crazy process (and who actually read the end notes lol). Your encouragement, whether it was in the form of comments, bookmarks or kudos really inspired me and helped to keep me motivated. 
> 
> Much love to you all and until next time!!
> 
> xx

**Author's Note:**

> WELCOME TO MY FIRST ATTEMPT AT WRITING A MULTI-CHAPTER FIC. BUCKLE UP CHILDREN BECAUSE WE ARE IN FOR A BUMPY RIDE. 
> 
> (and by we i mostly mean me. why have i done this to myself.)


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